


Wet Dream

by DearAgony



Category: Silent Hill
Genre: Dubious Consent, IHaveNoIdeaWhyIWroteThis, M/M, Sickfic, Smut, ThisIsABadIdea, dream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2815403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearAgony/pseuds/DearAgony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what happens when you sleep directly after playing Silent Hill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything belonging to the Silent Hill games, movie, or franchise. I am not making any money or other profits off of this work of fiction.

So. Let me explain why you should never play video games before you go to sleep.

It started out as your normal nightmare: cloudy, dark night; fog everywhere; and a noise in the air like the hissing of a snake. I was walking down a cracked, aged street; alone, cold, and helpless. At my disposal was a few band aids and an old broken two-way that I wanted to keep on me in case it started working. I remember, at the beginning of the dream I found a map that led into the center of town. It all looked so familiar to me for some reason, like I knew where I was going. I could vaguely remember reading about how to do this before, so I was fairly confident I knew what I was doing and I knew I didn't scare easily.  
I walked into the old, burned-down hotel. Never a good idea.

First thing I could smell was blood. Either blood or rusty metal. Then mold. Then ash and dust, a little bit of that sulfur-y smell that you get after lighting a match. And then, (even though I had never smelt this before, I could recognize the scent) dead bodies. Rotting, dead corpses hiding behind the walls and the doors of the rooms of the hotel. I watched the numbers as I passed. 211. 213. 215, 217.

The hallway stopped. The collapsed roof had fallen in and there was an incline just flat enough for me to climb up. I surfaced on the next floor.

313\. 315. 317. 319. 321. 323. 325. End of the hallway. I found an exit way that led up some stairs. As I climbed, the two-way made a strange ringing noise. I heard a hacking couch. There was a chill down my spine. I broke out in a sweat. Something told me to move faster or I'd be in a lot of trouble. My lungs were burning by the time I made it up the tall flight of stairs, but I burst out the door like a man gone mad. I stopped for a minute and I leaned against the door. Room number 444 looked directly back at me.

I couldn't help myself. The gamer in me said go in, and I always follow the gamer in me.  
Before my hand even touched the door handle, the door flew open and showed me the gruesome insides of the room. Dead corpses, darkness, blood, ripped flesh, rusty tables.

Scrrraaaaaaaaappppeeee...

I knew what was happening. I knew what it was. I'd been lucky so far, especially with that noise in the stairway, but this I wouldn't be able to get away this time. This one was the one. I had to either fight, or die.  
And there he was. Standing at 6' 5" and made out of nothing but flesh, bones, muscle, and metal, was none other than Pyramid-Fucking-Head.

"Looking" directly at me. Smelling me. Sensing my fear. Feeling my lust.

Dozens of corpses littered the room. Mostly dead, defiled, defaced nurses that had obviously been molested. I almost felt sorry for them. Almost. However, I was currently worried about how I was going to live through this endeavor.

He stepped towards me, dragging his Great Knife behind him always. That scrape, that horrible scrape, was dizzying my senses. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. He approached me. I tried to step back. That didn't happen.

The door magically closed behind me. I realized, somewhere in the back of my mind, that the two-way was going off. Somehow, I think that warning me of this monster wasn't going to help my predicament. 

He came up to me, and dropped his Great Knife. His biceps flexed as his arms quickly raised to my neck, pinning me against the door. The cold metal point of his head pressed into my chest, and he was holding me under my chin, making me look into his dark, metal "face." One swift move of his other hand, and my shirt was ripped from my body, and tossed on the floor. The strain of the rip burned my back, tearing precious skin from it's home and chafing it until it stung. He ran his cold fingers up my chest, across my perked nipples and into the little dip in my collarbone. He dragged his fingers up my neck, and felt me shiver in his grasp. His hand trailed back down to my stomach, along the patch of fur there and rested inside of the hemline of my pants. All he needed to do was tug, and the belt snapped at the back, and the button and zipper flew open, allowing him easy access to my privates.

I couldn't believe what was happening, my breath had hitched in my throat. My mind had stopped working completely and I barely registered the fact that I was about to die. Pyramid Head was... Raping me... But I don't really think this was really considered "rape," per say...

He ran a finger into my underwear and just pulled up, towards my chest. It gave me a nasty wedgie, but the thin garments ripped easily and soon the pain was gone. He reached down to my cock (and for a moment I thought that he was going to rip that off, too) and started tugging on it lightly. First just a light stroke to the head, and then a more firm, gripping pressure was applied to more of the shaft. He twirled my throbbing cock around in his fingers, flicking his finger across that little vein there, the one that feels oh-so-good and... oh...

He seemed to know that I was about to come, and he let up. He pressed his freezing cold, scarred chest up to mine and held me against that splintered door. He pulled my pants down around my ankles, and stepped inside my legs, lifting them up with his strong, muscular arms. He held me up with his ripped body while he tore his engorged cock out of his cloth. I couldn't help but stare at his length in awe. Fourteen inches of pure man-meat, throbbing in need and balls to knock over buildings. I knew if he had a face, he'd be smiling at the spectacle of me drooling over that cock. 

He allowed me no preparation, he just positioned himself at my entrance and pushed in, ripping me apart from the outside in. His member filled every inch of my tight, virgin hole like a wrecking ball fills a non-existent hole in a cement wall. He decided that he didn't want to wait for me to adjust, he just wanted to move. There was so much friction I thought I would explode. His hard, pulsing manhood fucked me into that damned door, the door of room 444 in an abandoned hotel with no hope of anyone ever coming to help me in the dark, foggy night of Silent Hill. He was ripping me, tearing me, pushing me, pulling me, fucking me... 

My head was spinning so fast and so hard that I knew I would never recover. I felt his pulsing become more intense, and he angled up so that it hit that sweet spot inside of me, massaging my prostate and sending shock waves of pleasure and pain throughout my body like an electric bolt. He knew it, too, and kept thrusting against that spot until I had no other choice but to scream in agony and pleasure. He wanted me to scream; he liked it when they screamed, and all of a sudden all of the horror and torment I'd seen in the streets made sense.

They were all remnants of what Pyramid Head did to them. He didn't care; man, woman, child, animal, anything... He'd make them into a greedy, needing, wanting, hating monster that needed his meat to survive. He sunk deeper inside of me and I swear that I could feel his cock in my lungs, making breathing a very difficult task. At that one moment he wanted me, and I wanted him like nothing else ever wanted before. I felt him tighten, felt those muscles become rigid and I felt his balls contract up near his cock as he pounded me further, releasing his cold, dead seed into my tight, hot passage. The chemicals mixed, and I went next, spurting onto both of our chests and stomachs, making us both rather sticky and warm.

As quickly as he started, he stopped, pulling that softening cock out of my used ass, his white passion dripping from me as it was from all the other corpses in the room. He walked slowly over to his Great Knife and lifted it in his giant arms, holding it high above his head and turning to face me. A sudden wave of absolute fear washed over my body as he swung the blade down, it's ice cold heaviness falling through my skull and...

I woke with a start, in a thick, cold sweat. Looking down at my sheets, I realized that they were sticky and freshly wet. The terror was still fresh in me, and so were the quick waves of pleasure still twitching out of my cock from my orgasm. I picked up my controller and saved my game. As I walked over to the console to turn off the game, I vowed to myself that I would never play video games after nine again.

Or at least, not again this week.

-Fin-


End file.
